So maybe lying on my bed tracing every contour of the ceiling wasn’t the best way to get my mind off Jean, my sexy and mysterious boyfriend, but it was the only way I could think of. Last night we did a little more than kiss. I racked my brain for a term that didn’t sound cheesy, overrated or just plain gross, to explain what we did. The important thing is I lost my virginity to that sexy, mysterious man. We stepped into brand new territory last night; brand new, sweaty territory.

Beep. Beep. Beep. I groaned at the obnoxiously loud ringing of my alarm clock. It had seen better days before I continuously dropped it on the floor and/or chucked it across my room. It was January 1st and no amount of love making could make me forget what that meant. It was my seventeenth birthday but also the day my mother was taken from me. It had been exactly ten years since then.
“Lilliana, would you come down here for a moment?” Maude called with her thick accent from somewhere downstairs. An accent I’m ashamed to say has rubbed off on me.
“Coming!” I called while simultaneously slipping into a pair of jeans and a worn out t-shirt with the name of a band I didn’t listen to anymore. It fit like a glove though. With a quick once over in the full length mirror I headed downstairs. I liked to watch my step because I wasn’t the most coordinated one in Draíochta.
Sure enough, sitting at the granite island was my lovely and beloved step mother. Alright maybe I was exaggerating my niceness but I really did love her. She understood how I felt and after that incident with my mother I really needed her. We weren’t perfect though. She still pried her way into my personal life like any other erratic caretaker.
“Happy birthday sweetie, Jean called,” she said at the sight of me. Her slender face buried in a new book didn’t even bother to look up at me after that. Classic Maude. Besides her wildly curly blonde hair she sort of reminded me of my mother. “He said something about wanting to see you before he goes off to train. Oh and he has a surprise for you.”
“Ooh a surprise,” I grinned, opening the fridge. Orange juice and crackers. If that’s not god’s gift to the world I don’t know what is.
For this Maude glanced up. She hated my breakfast choices. “Is that really all you’re having?”
“I’ll have you know this is a quality meal” I said in between bites of salted crackers. I sat beside her peering at the book in her hands. Somewhere in the back of my mind I kept thinking: is it right that I’m not mourning the loss of my mother? Though it’s not like she died; she was just. . . missing. I was still intent on finding her, even after all this time, but I wasn’t killing myself over it like I use to. She was out there and she wanted to be with me. I had to believe that. If I didn’t than I would have to accept that she’s gone and I refuse to do that.
“Must you read over my shoulder?” She asked impatiently.
“Fine. Fine. I’m heading out anyway” I said with my mouth full. I gave her a salty kiss and left to go find Jean at his usual spot.
***
Sitting under one of Amelia Stonebridge’s famous Whispering trees was that amazing guy I fell in love with in under seconds of meeting him. I could always find him by the Whispering trees if he wasn’t at his shop making toys like an elf. His artfully messy dark chocolate hair illuminated his emerald green eyes. I often fantasized about his eyes, the way they saw through me. It was enough to send goosebumps everywhere. I quickened my pace. Seeing him made me think of last night yet again. The way he felt against my skin, the heat and passion, the love.
“Hey Jean,” I waved “so I hear you have a surprise for me.”
He flashed me a knowing smile. “Right you are. We are going on an adventure.” Him rising to his feet made me remember just how tall he actually was. He literally towered over me and I was 5’6”.
“An adventure huh?”
“It’s my job to know what you love and who loves adventure more than you?” His voice was velvet against my ears. “Two words; Cross Romia.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I have no clue what you’re talking about” I admitted. That name didn’t scream trustworthy and I didn’t want to show up to yet another house in the middle of nowhere to talk to a man who thinks his cows are plotting his assassination with the rest of his barn animals. Jean apologized a million time for taking me there but I still won’t forget. The man was insane and Jean called it a good lead on finding my mother.
“He supposedly specializes in portals and I think, if you put on your cutest smile, he’ll show you a thing or two.” Portals. In Draíochta the word “portal” isn’t uncommon. Here is a world where witches and wizards walk around with us normal humans. I admit when I found out they existed I freaked out. Especially when Jean told me he was a wizard. If it wasn’t enough he was hot, he had to be powerful too. It drove me crazy but I wasn’t the only one. All the girls in my high school were head over heels in love with him. It wasn’t just me. I could feel their viscous eyes boring holes into our backs as we walked through the Square.
“Jean this could be big” I squealed. “Portals equals getting my mother back.”
After a minute of silently debating whether or not he should ask me a question, he asked me the most shocking question I never would have expected from him. “What if your mother isn’t alive? Could you ever forgive the person who killed her?”
His question caught me so off guard I had to stop dead in my tracks to regain my train of thought. When you hear something totally unexpected it’s customary to babble like an idiot but here I was in all my glory—completely silent. I honestly didn’t know what to say. There was always the haunting possibility that she wouldn’t be alive, if I ever found her, but Jean never brought it up before. It was sort of an unspoken rule that we never speak of it. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. Why the sudden interest?”
A flash of what can only be described as pure hope crossed his emerald eyes but quickly vanished. If you were to blink you would’ve missed it entirely. What did he have to be hopeful about? “I kind of figured you’d say that. You’re everything good in this world.”
I followed him to the forest on our way to Cross’s house. Two hours of trekking through fields and forests revealed nothing; eventually we decided to sit down on a fallen tree before we died of exhaustion. “We’re halfway there you know,” Jean said.

“I wouldn’t have guessed by the way we’re walking. I thought we were lost,” I admitted.

“It’s right up the side of the mountain. You see that cloud of smoke there?” he pointed through a break in the trees and sure enough there was a thick cloud of smoke drifting towards us. “I’d say another hour.”

“Great,” I couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief that this hiking trip wouldn’t last until I was eighty. When we resumed walking I concentrated on every step, trying not to fall and break my head open or get bitten by a camouflaged snake on the ground. Nature wasn’t exactly my area of expertise.

By the time we reached the old cobblestone cottage barricaded by untrimmed bushes, I was famished. My daily routines typically didn’t consist of hiking for three hours. Jean knocked on the door while I went around back in search of a window I could peer through. After Jean’s third failed attempt at getting Cross to answer I took it upon myself to slip through the unlocked back door. The chimney was lit with a bright flame slowly dying out, confirming the smoke we saw was coming from this house.

On my way to open the front door for Jean I noticed a shattered vase on the floor. I’m not sure that’s a good sign anywhere. There were three rooms--only one of them was left wide open. My legs moved of their own accord to the back where I found the body of a man blotched with blood. I could no longer make head to toe of his facial structure with all the deep gashes. He was mangled and mutilated in every possible place. Someone took their time on him. This wasn’t an ordinary run of the mill murder--not like there’s a lot of that. This was personal. There was no need to check his pulse because I was fairly certain that no one could survive such torture. It was sick.
I did however touch what was left of his hand. My mother once said that when you hold the hand of the deceased you allow them to pass through the gates of heaven. She said that you gave them strength from your life to die in peace.
That’s when visions poured into me. Cross before the incident. He looked to be in his early twenties knee deep in open books and handwritten documents. He sifted through the papers until the doorbell rang. He physically pried himself from his workplace to answer it. I thought nothing of it—except when the one at the door was none other than Jean. Then the vision faded. All images of Cross were gone, only saved in my memory.
Jean never said anything about meeting him before today. When did he start lying to me?

. I tore away from the body as quickly as possible only to find myself cringing at Jean’s touch. I threw up every ounce of orange juice and crackers my stomach held. I thanked god I didn’t have a heavier meal. “What’s wrong?” Jean asked, rubbing my back only so another round of throw up could surface. After what I saw it wasn’t surprising he’d have that effect on me.

“He’s dead!” is all I managed to shriek out before the thoughts of his lifeless body on the ground crept back. I clutched my stomach as if I were suffering from a fatal wound. I felt him leave to see for himself but couldn’t bring myself to check. When he returned he handed me a pile of documents. His research. How did Jean find it that fast?

“Drink this,” he said passing me a bottle of water I didn’t even know he was carrying. I didn’t waste any time on my conflicting thoughts, the burning in my throat greeted it with anticipation. I couldn’t get Cross’s face out of my mind. The intense stare he gave when doing his work. It was turned into something grotesque; as heartless as the attack on my mother if not more. What did Cross do to deserve a death like that? I never met the man before but it doesn’t make sense that he could’ve done anything worthy of mutilation to such a degree.

All the way back I barely noticed Jean’s presence, save for the moments when he warned me I was about to walk right into a tree. There was this feeling of heart pounding guilt overwhelming me; stealing from the dead wasn’t something I pegged Jean for—or myself for that matter. The documents Jean took burned red hot in my hands. This could be the key to get home and I felt wrong for taking it. Even though it would help me on my journey I wanted to things the right way. Not by possibly killing the researcher.

When we reached the town I headed straight home—without him. He promised to notify the King’s police of the tragedy we witnessed but I couldn’t rip myself away from Cross’s work. He knew something. I might not know what it says but I had a feeling it related to me somehow. When I touched those pieces of paper I felt that much closer to my dream. I could feel her.

My head ached from the hours I spent attempting to make sense of these words. I didn’t even know what language it was anymore. I thought about what it all meant as well as the vision until I drifted off.

I was expecting Maude to wake me up the next morning for church but I woke on my own to find a note stuck to the fridge.

I’m leaving to my sister’s house.

My sigh left me feeling all the more lonely now that no one was there to ask me what was wrong. It was like waking up in a wooden box. You’re awake but it doesn’t matter because you’re by yourself and no one’s waiting for you. I made toast, drenched it in butter. An internal debate arose on whether or not I should talk to Jean kept me at the table. I wasn’t so sure about anything. Last night he offered to stay with me and look over the documents but I couldn’t be around him. I didn’t want my mind to overcrowd with thoughts of deception. He has been acting strangely but I wrote it off as stress from training. He spent a lot of time with his mentor--sometimes for days out of the week. It wouldn’t be entirely inexplicable for him to have already met Cross. I was making a big deal out of nothing. If anything he must’ve went over there to make sure it wouldn’t be a bust and the murder happened long after he had left.

I ran my finger through my muddy brown hair absentmindedly. Seventeen years old and I still have the mindset of a child who couldn’t make up their mind on which toy to get. I decided I was being ridiculous as I pulled on my black fitted pants and indigo blouse with the plunge-in neckline. It was just enough cleavage to make all the girls hate me.
I spotted Jean being clouded by the usual suspects; the clones. They were all daughters of wizards on the King’s magic council. They were filthy rich, conceded, and all mortals like me. He ignored them as usual, tending to his work with this tiny smile he always has when making his trinkets. His older brother owns a chain of toy stores all over the world and put Jean in charge of making models for new toys he thinks kids will love. He hated to admit that he actually enjoys making them. I think he enjoys it more than practicing magic with his mysterious master I never get the chance to meet. If you ask him though he’ll just say he does this job as a favor to his brother whom I’ve also never met.

When I appeared I instantly gained the hatred of his followers. Pushing them apart I finally got Jean to notice my arrival. He disappeared behind the lime green curtain of his workshop and in a matter of seconds he materialized himself and a small pink box with a white ribbon. “Happy birthday Miss. Norland” he greeted with a bow.

“Why thank you good sir,” I played along. The girls around us swooned at his playfulness. This was no doubt a side of him they never got to see. I ripped it open like a child would; not caring if I looked stupid. I liked unwrapping things. The insides took my breath away. It was a sculpture of a butler in a black suit with white gloves, playing a violin as big as my pinky. My mouth dropped. The detail put into this was shown through the attention to detail in the violin and the butlers face. It was perfectly painted with real life qualities like the slight blush in the man’s cheeks as he plays and the sweat that beaded down his brow with all the concentration clearly portrayed in his alabaster eyes. The platform he stood on was a suitcase, adding the perfect touch of humor to his artwork.

Unable to help myself, I threw my arms around his neck giving him the biggest hug I could manage without breaking the tiny man. “This is amazing. You’re amazing” I smiled.

“I’m sorry it’s late.” His apologies were always sincere not that he did a lot of thing he should be sorry for.

“Don’t apologize. I’m happy,” I said. “Hey, are you getting off work soon?”

He glanced at his workshop and then back at me questioningly. “What do you have in mind?” Even his voice was skeptical. Since I don’t normally ask him to leave work early he could only assume I wanted him to look over the papers--which I did.

“Can I come over?” I asked with my fingers interlocked in a pleading way. He rolled his eyes and locked up his station in a few swift motions. We’ve always had this unspoken connection where we can pretty much know for sure what the other is thinking without having to play guessing games or let everyone else into our plans. One of the perks of knowing someone for ten years I guess.

We made a beeline for Maude’s house where I packed up all of the papers in my bedroom that had to do with portals and put away my little man statue. And with that we headed to his place.
***
My breath caught as the rain outside hit the window pane in Jean’s one bedroom house. The beauty in front of me was enough for me to rethink if I was worthy of him. Jean was scrolling through pages and pages of books on portals, searching tirelessly for a way to get me back to Osteria. After my mother sent me through that portal ten years ago I spent every day of my life finding my way home. Jean fell into the picture shortly after I arrived and he joined my quest. Today like any other day we were leafing through documents and findings.
“Tell me again why you always help me,” I said after stealing glances at his god like face got me nowhere but closer to having a heart attack.
He must’ve noticed a change in my tone because he set his book down and gazed into my eyes. The same wisdom and mystery that captured me from the beginning now held us. If he had any idea how much my heart yearned for him, he didn’t let on. He was always stoic and untouchable. His mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something but thought against it. Then his eyes softened and the chink in his armor revealed the soft interior I secretly spend my days looking for. “I love you. You know that, right?”
There were a million other things I could’ve said in response that would’ve been mysterious and would have led him on but when I stared back at his emerald eyes I couldn’t say anything but the truth. “I love you too” I smiled. A tear fell down my cheek and I rushed horridly to wipe it away.
Immediately his softness was traded for a protectiveness I knew all too well. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just . . . I had no idea you’d exist.” I admitted.
For this he cracked one of his famous half smiles. “Everyone has love in their cards. The question is whether or not you play it.”
I crossed the table to get to where he sat world apart from me. I needed to feel him. To know that we were on the same level, in the same dimension. My hand met with the collar of his silk button up shirt and brought him closer to me. It was as if we needed to breathe the same air to establish ourselves in reality. There was an almost tangible pain that crossed his face the closer our proximity became. I bit my lip to keep from asking him why being close always hurt him. It’s not like I was ugly or anything. I knew how good I looked, especially without a shirt on. When he brought his lips to mine I wrote it off as my overactive imagination because there was no way that passion of this magnitude could ever be fake. It was unreal but definitely not fake.
Still, in the recesses of my brain I felt a storm coming.

His lips were close to mine without touching making the hunger push upward inside of me. Finally our hearts beat too fast and suddenly we had the need for artificial respiration. They were soft yet fierce, burning against mine. My eyes shut of their own accord and I decided I could never figure out if loving him was my choice or something that we had no control over. This love was being directed by some higher power. Surely humans weren’t capable of finding someone that could light them up on their own. It was treacherous but a feeling I wouldn’t trade for the world.
We turned primal. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck forcing him closer. Every part of me he touched was set ablaze. That tiny crush sparked as he made me curse whoever invented shirts. They were getting in the way. We melted together seamlessly. For someone who had trouble showing emotion he had no problem revealing this side of himself.

“You have no idea the affect you have on me” he breathed against the nape of my neck.

I looked at him. “Really?”

“No matter what happens just remember how I am with you right now.” His tone was eerily serious; leading me to believe there would be a turn of events soon.

“Are you leaving somewhere?” We hadn’t been apart from each other for more than a few days but the way he spoke made me think I would never see him again.

“. . . yeah.” I didn’t ask him where he was going. We just cuddled up closely forgetting the rest of the world and their problems.
***
Long after I left for home, I still felt the heat from his kiss. We had locked lips several times before but it was never like this. I hopped out of bed and went downstairs in record time. Maude had gotten back sometime during my nap and greeted me with one of her usual awkwardly long hugs--only this time she came bearing gifts. Well a gift to be exact. I opened it already knowing what it would be. Yet another overdone floral dress. I’ll have to wear it once but after that I’ll shove it in the back of my closet with the rest of them. I don’t have the heart or the stealth to throw them away.

“You’re going to look so gorgeous in this. Like a little angel.” She grinned. She was picturing me with a smile on my face wearing the dress she so boldly picked out for me. There was no such thing as personal taste in her book. It was just what girls should wear and apparently this was it. They were completely black and white guidelines but I couldn’t blame her because after she retired from being the royal librarian her attention was turned at my fashion sense. If things don’t fit into society’s perfectly formed box it has no right to just be. I felt like such a rebel around her. I didn’t fancy tea parties or evening gowns like I’m assuming most girls my age should. I wouldn’t know because my mind works completely different. I never had a bunch of friends that were girls. I also didn’t plan on getting married any time soon. Unlike what everyone seemed to think, I wasn’t getting ready to run away with Jean at a moment’s notice.

“Thanks” I smiled. If I didn’t I would never hear the end of it. I have no backbone with her. Just like a noodle.

“Where’s Jean?” she had to ask “he’s never further than arm’s length away from you.”

“I don’t know. He said he’s going somewhere.” I sighed.

She shook her head “It’s a good thing he’s a loyal boy because he takes frequent trips. I would be worried he was cheating.”

I suppressed a smile “He’s a good guy.”

She nodded “now go help him get ready to go. You shouldn’t spend too much time with me. It’s unhealthy.” I suppose this was only to be expected. Her dream is for me to get married and have a bunch of wizard children. The longer I stayed here the less insane it seemed.

I nodded. I trusted Maude’s opinion and if she thought I should go after Jean then I was going to go after Jean. I ran down to his workshop knowing he wouldn’t be home, he hated going home; the light shining through the window proved it.

He opened the door without hesitation like he was right next to it already. “I’m here to help you pack” I said with a salute. He cupped my face in his hands and planted a hard kiss on my lips. Only this time it was just one kiss. One kiss and he sent me on my way. If he didn’t need my help he could’ve just said so instead of telling me to leave. Especially after I practically ran there.

With so much on my mind I almost missed the black hole on the side of Cynthia's Magic Shop. I wasn’t surprised considering she was a nasty old witch. Still, I went to investigate. I reached my hand into the cold darkness that was familiar to me. This was the path to home, I’d recognize it anywhere. I wanted to run and bring Jean but I had no idea how long it would stay open. Without another thought on the matter I stepped into it. My feet touched a hard surface in the blackness. If I keep walking this road I’ll reach my home.

“Rise and shine doll face,” a voice ordered “the sooner you wake up the sooner you can get to the kitchen and start cooking.” Am I seriously hearing this? Surely there wouldn’t really be a sexist asshole of this magnitude wherever I am.

After a few failed attempts, my eyes fluttered open revealing the inside of a large makeshift oval strung together by patches of steel and canvass. There were circular windows spaced evenly around the perimeter and unless clouds decided they’d float near the sidewalk—I wasn’t on the ground. The light the windows brought was blinding but not as much as the disorganization as far as the eye could see. There was nothing that wasn’t either made of metal or metal like wood. Well, except for the crewman goofing off, smoking, or testing their strength against each other. I wanted to leave but where could I go in the sky?

The clothes they wore were different from Draíochta. The three men before me were all dressed in dirtied white dress shirts with black suspenders, khakis that tucked into tall black boots adorned with zippers--that couldn’t possibly fit anything-- and gears built into them, along with various pairs of goggles. However none of their voices matched the one that brought me back to life--so to speak. Did I just imagine it? No, I don’t have nearly as much creativity as it takes to imagine such an irritant.

“It’s so like a woman to keep a man waiting,” I spun around taking in a spiraling stairwell bringing me closer to the big mouthed fool. “Is she awake yet?”

“Just woke up boss” the overweight one of the bunch with the receding hairline called.

“I told you not to call me that,” His grey eyes calculated every move I made. His face was familiar--to an extent. He was the spitting image of Cross (pre-mutilation). “I picked you up because I figured this ship could use a woman’s touch” he began.

“We could use a prostitute too,” one of the men chuckled.


“Too bad you can’t afford that either” I snapped.

“What were you doing sleeping on the ground in the Lower East Vector?” He changed the subject making sure we stayed on his wave length. “Surely someone as flawless as you has a place.” Was he seriously flirting with me? I liked it better when he was being an arrogant ass. He put his hand on my shoulder and guided me to a small room behind the stairwell. The contents of which were filled to brim with dirty dishes and stains on the floor. “So, this is your job and, no, I don’t pay the help.” A smile played on his lips. He knew how degrading that statement was.

I spun back around “I’m not doing this.”

“I’m sorry did you say you wanted to be pushed out my ship?” I remained silent, unwilling to answer his mocking question. “I figured you wouldn’t want to throw away your life after I can tell you took so long molding your self-worth and determination to fit into such an uptight little body.” He said with his hands on my shoulders in order to properly face me to my cleaning duties. “After you’re done feel free to come out and play with us.”

I slapped his hand away.

“You’re refusing?” he asked with mock surprise as if he knew I wasn’t going to do it from the beginning.

“This is your mess, you clean it. I’m going to do . . . anything else.”

I left him in the kitchen alone without the servant maid he wished for but would never obtain. I had to say, I was flattered though. It wasn’t like guys were breaking down doors to date me; partly because of my personality and because I was almost always with Jean.
When I caught a glimpse of the world from the windows, besides the mass of puffy clouds, I had this feeling I was home though it seemed more polluted than usual. My mother was here . . . somewhere. Whether she was dead or alive was still unknown but she’s here. Ten years had passed since I’ve been back; it’s not an eye-opener seeing things have changed. On the ground it could be a lot different
I may not know a whole bunch about the technology here but you can’t run anything forever. When the time comes that they land, I’ll make a run for it. Besides, I highly doubt that--whoever this guy is-- going to chase after me. He only picked me up because he needed a maid. He’ll find out soon enough that I’m very domesticated, if he hasn’t already. I can barely make myself toast without burning the bread. If he expected me to cook meals for him and his gang of misfits he has another thing coming.

The guys reeked of the scent you get when you haven’t bathed in a month. They didn’t seem to mind. I went around them careful not to give them any more of a reason to notice me. I spotted the pilot’s area through a large window on the side of a steel door twice the size of me. The wind whipping from outside forced the door closed even while I put all my weight against it to open. It took some doing but after I placed my feet firmly on the ground and slammed my shoulder into it, it gave.

The outside was a rectangular balcony-like area encased with rusted bars, for safety I presumed. The pollution in the air broke its way into my lungs for safe keeping. The only protection I had from asphyxiation was the thin veil my indigo blouse provided over my mouth and nose.

Even though we’re so high above the ground I could still make the remains of a city peeking through breaks in the cloud bank. It was as if someone painted the planet with a neutral color. It was faint but if I close my eyes I can make out the sound of distant screaming, guns firing, and the hum of this airship’s motor at work. I sat down with my legs sticking out of the gaps between the bars directly in the middle. What happened here?

As if by some magic summoning the man, whose name I still don’t know, the arrogant pig stood a safe distance away from me but still close enough for me to hear his answer for my unspoken question. “Terrible war isn’t it?”

“What war?” I asked baffled. I raised my head to look at him earning me the sight of an entirely different man. He no longer gave off a pompous air. Safe for the cigarette burning between his fingers, he appeared to be a normal guy. He pushed glasses up the bridge of his nose that I never noticed him wearing before.

“I knew you weren’t from around here,” he murmured as if to the wind and not to me. He took a long drag, contributing to the pollution in the air. “That shade of blue isn’t what you’d call common around where I found you. At first I considered the possibility you were of aristocratic blood but you don’t have the mark of S.S.”

“S.S?”

He took another long drag, exhaling it slowly “Satan’s servants.” He must’ve noticed my blank stare because he elaborated. “About ten years ago this army of satanic believers invaded the capital city, ultimately overthrowing the previous government. Those bastards threw this place into turmoil with no regard for anything but their stupid quest.” He breathed in another mouthful of smoke to calm himself down. “Supposedly they’re here in search for Satan’s blood children. As if that even exists. They expect us to hand ourselves over to help further their results.”

“Well, what do they do to the people who do hand themselves over?” I couldn’t help asking. I have a natural curiosity and in a moment like this it was just a matter of time before it got peaked.

He scoffed “what else could they do? It’s not like they have this special machine that can figure out if they're related to the king of evil.” He flicked the cigarette over the edge into a musty unknown just in time to light another one. “They stab them in a vital place and if they bleed to death it’s decided that they aren’t some demon spawn. It changed recently though, volunteers haven’t been quenching their thirst for blood so they’re rounding up thirty people of various ages to test on every month. Do you know how many innocent children have died for their experimental gain? ”

I remained silent. His words are beyond me. Up until now I’ve lived in a safe and protected community of non-wizards and wizards. Murder for the sake of finding Satan’s kid blew my mind. What are they going to do? Make him the head of the country? Nothing good could possibly come from these experiments. The smart people like four-eyes over here took to the sky. They manufactured security out of metal and canvass. I had to wonder if given the opportunity would I have stayed and fought or took to skies as well. It’s a fleeting thought but one that leaves no room for questioning. In that moment of terror it’s either kill or be killed--fly or stay grounded.

“By the way my name is Nate Alaric,” he extended his hand out to me. I shook it without another thought on the matter of murder. “Those guys inside are my brothers. They’ll introduce themselves later.”

“Brothers?” I didn’t want to ask what he meant by brother because of the possibility of offending him but it just blurted itself out. The three of them don’t resemble each other in the slightest. In fact, one of the arm wrestlers was a thousand times darker than Nate. Not to mention one of them looks older than all of them put together. Plus, they call Nate boss.

“Family is a very loose term. You don’t have to share blood to be a family.” He held the door open for me having a much easier time yanking it open.

I gave a small nod of approval at his notion. “Lilliana Norland.”

•
Marcellus is self-conscious about his weight and receding hairline. Also his age is a tricky subject.
•
Florence is a better cook than any of us combined.
•
Everard is scrawny but has a loud mouth to compensate. Avoid him when having a headache.



Nate already had girl clothes tucked away in the back of his closet for a reason I still don’t understand. He said it was either take the clothes or come back home empty handed. I didn’t understand what good getting something you’ll never use is--although, it did come in handy this time around.

I preferred the short sepia ruffled skirt being that the other options were between a floor length gypsy skirt and tiny ivory shorts. Nate insisted that it was paired with the black leather mini utility pouch. The sienna corset was the only one that fit and Nate made sure to leave room for breathing when tying it up.

I’ve been spending most of my time outside on the balcony where the helm is, replaying that last moment with Jean over and over again. He kissed me—our last kiss. Look at me now; I’m in an airship with strange men dressing me up in battle ready clothes. Wonderful. Even when I try to make sense of it all I end up making myself sound crazier. I hardly thought I deserved this kind of punishment.
I only ever thought about Jean. And the way we blended together or the way touching him drove me insane with love. I only wanted him. He made me feel awful about leaving without telling him, surely he would understand. “Why the hell did I do that?” I groaned.

“Do what?” Nate asked.

I shot up from where I rested against the floor of the balcony. My head banged against the railing. “S***! To think I thought I could be alone here” I grumbled.

“Hey, this is my smoking spot.” He said while pulling out one of his now famous cigarettes. “How could you treat me like this way after I graciously shared my most sacred of places with you?”

I choked back laughter at his mock horror “you’re not normal.”

“It’s something you learn to embrace,” he grinned “so what were you talking about?”

“My boyfriend,” I murmured mostly to myself. That was the understatement of the century. “Where are we going?”

Nate shook his head. “Don’t change the subject. I want to hear about the guy you mess with.” His eyebrow arched in an accusing way. I don’t believe I had ever heard the word “mess” sound so dirty.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. This is serious” I sighed. The stress of screwing everything up was killing me. It had been a few days since I last saw Jean and yet I still feel less than dirt.

“No you’re right. I’m sorry. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

I debated it. Since there was no way Nate could know Jean I didn’t see the problem. That wasn’t the problem though, it was his dirty remarks. There’s only so much of it I can stand. Then again if it gets to be too much I’ll just throw him over the railing. That way I’d be preventing it from happening to other unsuspecting people. I was pretty sure they gave out awards to those who solve major life problems like that. “I left him to come here.”
“That’s not a problem. It was bound to happen eventually. It’s the circle of life.” He shrugged, taking the last long drag of his cigarette and chucking it down to some far off place.
In an odd way I felt like he was literally giving it his best in trying to cheer me up. “Maybe you’re right but I love him.” I pinched myself on the arm.
“What’d you do that for?”
“I figured since you were making sense it must be a dream. Otherwise I have to accept that you might actually be smart.”
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I resent that.” It got me thinking why he wore them at night and not in the day time.
“Why do you wear those?”
“I read before I go to sleep; it’s my guilty pleasure. It’s also necessary to keep up with someone.”
I was going to ask who he had to keep up with but after a quick thought I realized I didn’t care. It wasn’t like I was planning to stay with them so getting to know Nate would be completely useless. I have a tendency to get wrapped up in the little things. Instead I asked where we were going. The slow dissention had begun a while ago and the tops of trees had already come into view.
“We’re going to my house in the Upper Eastern vector” he said matter-of-factly.

I shouldn’t be surprised there’s more to this world than just Atomia but I was. It’s all so new to me. These Vectors were confusing me. What is a Vector anyway? “You have a house?”

“I also have a family and a tendency to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide” he stated.

“Don’t get cute.” I rolled my eyes.

“Easy there Lil, it wasn’t important” he shrugged. I slept in this stink hole when he probably had a nice comfy bed away from the sky. That’s why I don’t like people.
I decided to let it rest. I had more important things on my mind like how to find my mother when I could barely keep up with which Vector was which. I can’t believe it never occurred to me that once I’m here I would actually have to look for her. What did I think; they were just going to hold up a neon sign advertising where she was?

The ship reached a meadow a few minutes later with flowers ranging from royal blue hydrangeas to orchids growing under the shade of tall oak trees. I had to catch my breath. The amount of beauty flowing into my vision was too much for me and when it was safe to get off the ship I was the first one to race down to the lower level door. I caressed the blades of grass that now lay under my skin as I flopped down to against the ground. It created a soft blanket for me. The air was much cleaner out here. The trees and plant life created fresh new sources of oxygen. This reminded me so much of the grassy plains where Jean and I would roam whenever we needed a break from the rest of the world. I wondered what he would think about all of this. Would he say it was no match for our secret spot?

Marcellus joined me in basking in the glory of the greenery. He picked a huge hydrangea out of the dirt, practically consuming the flower while trying to inhale its aroma. I laughed at his plump face when a passerby bee threatened to sting him as he reached for a bluebell in its proclaimed area. Florence took much longer to get off the ship and also seemed to hate anything green. He wiped his white shirt clean of floating pollen in the air he couldn’t even see. How could someone hate this? Everard and Nate exited next one after the other. Everard ran over to Marcellus to slap him the back of the head playfully. His skinny body seemed like it would float away with the wind in a moment’s notice. I don’t think he could be older than Nate with the way he plays around.

Nate trudged past all of us to a colossal house imbedded in the side of a mountain. You would miss it if you weren’t looking for it. The only reason I caught sight of it was because Nate was walking straight towards the rock-like door. I rose to my feet fairly quickly to get a better look at it. The entire house was either rock or covered in more grass. Two trees dangled their leaved over the top to provide more concealment. This was incredibly amazing. I had never seen anything like it and I lived with wizards. They had some extreme houses too. Old man Gains lived on the bottom of ocean. You had to use a spell to get yourself down there with oxygen but once you were inside the house itself was enchanted to have air permanently inside and to keep the water out. At the time I thought that was the most bizarre one but this takes the cake. Why would you want a house inside of a mountain?

“He keeps to himself a lot,” Florence said walking toward me “that’s why I was surprised when he picked you up.”

“What exactly happened that night?” I asked. I keep hearing how I was “picked up”. Not much elaboration.

“We were flying over the east village at about twelve when Nate ordered us to turn back around and dock ship. Then he jumped out to get you. That’s basically it.” He coughed at the last part of his sentence--most likely due to all the second hand smoke he’s been breathing in.

“Alright,” I said. I was thinking it was some kind of extravagant rescue but it clearly wasn’t. Therefore I didn’t owe him anything. I could run away with dignity. Waiting for the guys to go inside took longer than expected since they were preoccupied smelling flowers. You would think they never saw this place before. As soon as they were in I made a break for it.
I had no idea where I was going but I kept running. I went all the way to a huge river. I knew how to swim but the current was far too harsh to make it in one piece. I was good but not that good. Figures he would have a house surrounded by a mote. Only complete lunatics would think of that. After pouting and kicking some dirt around I headed off to where Nate sat patiently with his arms crossed. “You’re an idiot” I exclaimed.

“I’m sorry?” he arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

“C’mon, you know what I’m talking about” I prompted, taking a seat across from him. The chair was wobbly and I couldn’t stop rocking back and forth.

“I assume you’re talking about your failed attempt at running away from me. Did I forget to tell you I live on an island?” He smirked.

“Jackass,” I barked. He threw his head back in laughter like a child. I wanted nothing more than to choke him. I mashed my head against the table. I was defeated. If he wanted me to stay then I had to stay. He was impossible. I had never met a match for me before. I hated it.

“Who’s that?” A quiet voice asked from the hallway. I raised my head only to see a boy a little bit younger than me with sandy blonde hair and wide grey eyes. He wore the same glasses Nate wears to read. I could tell by the marks on the bridge of his nose that he never removed them.

“Some girl I picked up” Nate mocked. I hated being made fun of, even if he means it in a totally playful way.

“3-5% of sexually transmitted diseases occur because of prostitution” he blurted out matter-of-factly. Nate couldn’t help his barking laughter from flowing again. I on the other hand was sick and tired of being called a prostitute. I’m not even going to think about how this outfit Nate stuck me in makes me look all the more like a hooker than my previous style choices. Even though he repeatedly assured me I was just another teenage girl wearing a regular teenage outfit.

“Well at least I can make some pocket money,” I said with a keep-talking-I’m-fine-with-it grin. These last four days have been chock full of biting comments you learn to shake off your skin. Strangers with sharp tongues is something I’ve become accustomed to--sadly.

My words took the sprout by surprise. Nate decided it was time to introduce us after the last of his chuckles silenced. “Lilliana this is my kid brother Greyson,” he gestured toward me and him “Greyson she’s not a prostitute. She prefers the term freelance lover.”

I backhanded him in the chest. “Don’t listen to him” I advised.

Looking between the two of them I could see the family resemblance. Unlike the others who obviously aren’t blood relatives, Greyson had the same sandy blonde hair Nate had only his was styled neatly. Nate once said he didn’t feel the need to brush his hair because he wasn’t a prissy girl. That’s why it’s so shaggy and hangs in his face. They would have the same eyes if Greyson’s weren’t a shade darker. Even the way they stand, shifting all their weight to the left leg, is the same. As if one of them wasn’t enough now I had two.

“Why are you here? I never get to see him even when he should be teaching me. Now thanks to you my knowledge is at stake.” He said unflinchingly. There’s nothing like meeting someone for the first time and having them hate your guts. It’s that first impression that leaves you in the depths of depression. That being said I had a permanent frown on my face.

Nate rose from his seat soundlessly only to slap Greyson in the back of the head. “Watch what you say.”

“I was just stating the facts” he said defensively.

“I’m not here because I want to be here. Believe me. I’m a prisoner kept against her will. I would like nothing more than to get away and find my mother.” I said. Greyson acted like I would rather die than be apart from Nate.

Nate’s eyes widened “You’re looking for your mother? Since when?”

“Since ten years ago when she was taken. It’s a work in progress, so if you could let me leave that would be great.” I stood up dramatically.

“Why would you think that I wouldn’t want to be a part of this? This is the kind of s*** I live for.” He cracked his knuckles getting ready for the adventure that would never come. I didn’t plan on taking him with me and the look I gave must’ve told him that. “C’mon Lil, I know this country backwards and forwards. You didn’t even know there was a war going on.”
“No.” I put my foot down. He got his way all the time. It was time for change that didn’t involve him. I could think of a million reasons why he can’t come. He irritates my life for one. Second of all he’s a pompous asshole and he acts like a child. “Stay here and teach your brother.”
“Greyson has an eidetic memory. He should be teaching me.” Greyson didn’t object. “Let me help you.”
I shook my head. “She’s my mother. I’ll find her.” Even though I said that I knew I needed help, I had no clue where I was. After giving it a little more thought I caved “fine.”
Thoroughly pleased with my decision he grinned a toothy grin. “That’s something I can work with.” He disappeared into the hallway Greyson appeared from. Greyson took his seat before Nate came back carrying a folded up piece of paper. “You’re welcome,” he said while unfolding it.

“What is it?” I asked staring blankly at the paper. It was marked up with blue ink displaying the bird’s-eye-view of a building. It was complete with measurements and titles of rooms in bold. It was big enough to cover the table.

“This is your ticket to your mom,” he grinned with a gleam in his eyes “the blueprints to an S.S prison in the Southern Vector.”

I gasped. This was the ticket I needed. Forget not knowing what to do--I had the blueprints. “Where did you get this?” I practically mouthed. I was so taken aback I almost forgot to ask, but if he did something illegal I want to know about it.

“I stole it,” he waved it off as if it were no big deal or nothing new. At that point I didn’t care either.

“Alright, let’s do this.”